


So Mote It Be

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Torture, Community: trope_bingo, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Forbidden Love, Magic, My First Work in This Fandom, Prophetic Dreams, Restraints, Whump, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: Diana can only watch helplessly as Knox takes out the blade and moves to where Matthew is restrained against the stone altar.





	So Mote It Be

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read the books and I've only seen three episodes so far but this came to me and I needed to write it.  
> For the [whumptober prompt](https://whumpystuff.tumblr.com/post/177977914035/la-vie-en-whump-october-approaches-in?is_liked_post=1) 14 Torture (though 4 "No, Stop" or 7 kidnapping would also work, this was rather dark to begin with.)  
> For the trope bingo prompt "Trapped in a dream"

The cold breeze tugged at Diana's hair but she couldn't move her hands to smooth back the stray strands that had escaped from her fishtail braid. She could barely move at all, restrained by magic, so that her hands remained hanging down by her sides, her feet heavy as if glued to the flagstones.

The circular tower was ancient, the walls crumbling around the dozen thin arched windows through which the wind whistled ceaselessly. In the centre of the room was a large slab of granite, etched with symbols; some Diana recognised, others she did not. A tall candle holder stood to one side, twelve red candles burning fiercely within.

Knox gave a wicked smile as Diana struggled against her invisible bonds. He and four other witches, robed and hooded and now standing opposite Diana, had somehow captured her and Matthew. She couldn't quite remember how, trapped in this moment as surely as she was held far from Matthew.

Matthew had been chained to the slab, bound at wrist and ankle to each corner of the granite altar with heavy chains. He was barefoot and shirtless, ragged trousers the only garment left to him, so much of his pale skin exposed that it added to his vulnerability. They'd taken his strength, his elegant clothing, his composure. Diana fought fear and tears at seeing him brought low.

Because of her. Because he'd sought to protect her. Because he cared for her. And she for him.

Matthew was seething silently, as helpless against his metal bonds – enchanted, surely – as Diana was against her magical ones.

"Let him go," Diana demanded. She tried again to use her magic, for what greater need had she ever faced than the need to escape, to save herself and Matthew. Yet the binding spell blocked her powers. No witch wind rose up to toss Knox head over heels. Matthew's cuffs remained in place. No weapon came flying to her hand.

"I cannot do that," Knox said. The other four witches, heads bowed, faces unseen beneath their hoods, stayed silent and unmoving as he paced back and forth in front of them.

"Please. I'll get you the book," Diana said.

"No!" Matthew strained against the chains.

"He wants you, Diana. Would drain every drop of your witch blood without hesitation."

"That's not true!" Tears began to fall and she couldn't wipe them away. "He'd never hurt me."

Knox scoffed. "He is a vampire. He is without morals or self-control. He is our enemy. Fraternising with the enemy is forbidden."

Diana shook her head as much as she was able to. "Then I'll never see him again. Just let him live."

"You would say anything to save him," Knox said, almost sad as he moved to stand in front of her. He reached out and caressed her cheek and she could tip her head only a little, not enough to get away from his wretched touch. "It's not your fault. You were not raised as you should have been, to know and understand these things. It will be over soon and when you are free of him you will take your rightful place at my side in the Congregation."

"I won't," she swore. "If you hurt him, you will be next."

Knox stepped away and gave a sigh of resignation. "You are too deeply in his grasp to be set free other than by his death. The ritual will proceed and you must watch. So mote it be."

With a wave of his hand, the four other witches began a low, ominous chant. From inside his robes Knox drew a knife. A black handle with symbols matching those on the altar was topped by a sharp silver blade. Athame; ritual knife. Used in Wicca for directing energy but this knife in this witch's hands was for a far darker purpose.

"Please," Diana begged again. "Don't do this."

Knox turned his back on her, approached the supine form of Matthew. The chant became louder. The candles guttered in the breeze.

"No!" Diana wanted to go to Matthew, or to at least fall to her knees, but the magic kept her upright. She was weepinly freely, cheeks damp.

"It was worth it to love you, even for a short time," Matthew called to her defiantly. "Do not be sorry, Diana. Do not trust Knox –"

The blade flashed, cutting off his words as it cut open the skin of his left arm, from just below the manacle on his wrist to the crook of his elbow. Diana screamed as blood flowed copiously, staining the surrounding pale flesh and pooling onto the granite slab of the altar, filling up the grooves of the symbols.

"Ssh, Diana," Knox soothed. "You will both know peace soon enough."

The blade fell again. Matthew's right arm was sliced open and blood began spilling into the symbols on right side of the altar. Matthew cried out this time, gasping as he became weaker with every passing second for his wounds were not healing.

"Matthew!" Diana beat at the restraints with every scrap of magic and willpower she had but it wasn't enough.

Knox traced one finger along Matthew's chest, down the rib cage and across his stomach. "One more cut," Knox said. "I shall open your undead corpse and take your unbeating heart from your chest."

"No! Matthew!" Diana couldn't bear to watch but couldn’t look away. Matthew's eyes met hers. His lips moved soundlessly; goodbye.

Knox placed the knife tip at the jugular notch at the top of the sternum and pressed down as he dragged the blade along the ribcage, the bewitched metal sinking deep into Matthew's chest. Diana screamed again and again –

"I've got you! Diana! Please, wake up!"

She was cradled in Matthew's arms, the bedclothes crumpled around them both. Diana gasped for breath, almost threw up. Her cheeks were wet, her throat was sore, she could taste bile, and her heart was racing.

"You were dreaming," Matthew said, rocking her back and forth. He rubbed at her shoulder with one hand. "You were screaming my name. You sounded terrified. I had to come."

If he thought she could ever be angry that he'd barged into her bedroom uninvited he was mistaken. Diana let out a few more tears, these ones of relief, and grappled to hold him as much as he was holding her. She needed to wrap her arms around his neck, to breathe in his scent and feel his body against hers.

_This is real. I'm safe. He's alive. We're all right. Breathe._

It was several minutes before she was fully calm and Matthew murmured soothing nonsense, caressing her gently, patient and undemanding.

"Tea," she said finally, releasing him with reluctance, but needing something to soothe her throat.

When they were sat at the kitchen table, the tea brewing in the china teapot, Diana said, "I'm sorry I woke you."

If she had, for he was wearing his usual shirt and trousers, the jacket missing from the ensemble probably because he'd been in such a hurry. Did he sleep in his clothes in case of emergencies? Maybe he had once feared villagers with pitchforks, though now he had to come to the rescue of a witch too dense to know she was merely dreaming.

Did he even sleep?

"You didn't. I was reading," Matthew said. "That must have been quite the dream."

Diana lifted the lid and stirred the contents of the pot. "I've had more nightmares lately," she said. "I should have known it was just a dream but it felt so real."

The cold wind, the chanting, the sight of the blood…

"Diana?" Matthew's voice broke her reverie. She put aside the spoon, replacing the lid and pouring the tea.

"It was Knox," she said, when she had the cup firmly in her hands, grateful for the warmth. "He had captured us both. He wanted to kill you."

Tears threatened again and she swallowed hard, forcing them back. Matthew tipped his head.

"He was draining your blood. Making me watch." Diana had to bite down on her lip for a long moment, almost enough to draw her own blood, but she regained her composure. "I was helpless. Held by Knox's magic, unable to move or use my own powers. You were just a few feet away, bleeding to death on some damn stone altar and I couldn't do a thing."

"It was only a dream," Matthew said but he sounded uncertain. "I'm not easily wounded."

"He had an athame and there were symbols on the handle, and the altar." Abruptly Diana put aside the cup, grabbed for a notepad and pen. She sketched the symbols as best she remembered them. When she was done, she pushed the notepad across the table.

Matthew raised an eyebrow as he studied the drawing. "You know these symbols?"

"Some of them." Diana tapped at one swirl that crossed a diagonal line. "Not that one. Nor these ones."

Matthew took up his cup and sipped the tea, deep in thought.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"The symbols? I don't know all of them either. Though that one you first pointed out is something used by witches against vampires. I suppose it's possible you've come across it in your reading, and your subconscious has recalled it now you're learning more about your powers and my kind." Matthew took another sip before he said, "Or it could be more than that."

"Like what?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Prophecy. Some witches can foretell a likely future. The dream could be a warning. It might not be literal, but it could be trying to show you the dangers you face."

"We," she said. "The dangers we're facing. He was torturing you."

"Draining my blood?" Matthew shook his head. "That's more than torture. There are some spells, forbidden by the Congregation, that use vampire blood."

Diana had taken comfort in the waking world, in knowing that she was no longer dreaming, but this revelation meant the nightmare hadn't just been a figment of her subconscious, some terrible imagining. It was something she had to be aware of.

Well she would heed the warning. She would not let Knox hurt Matthew. In the dream she'd already been overpowered and restrained, so her task now was to ensure that no matter what, she was never going to be helpless.

"I won't let Knox win," Diana said. She moved to sit on Matthew's lap. His momentary surprise gave way to happiness as he held her close. "I won't let him keep us apart."

So mote it be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and concrit welcome.  
> [Rebloggable Tumblr post](https://meridianrosewrites.tumblr.com/post/179010091922/so-mote-it-be-meridianrose-meridianrose-a) if you'd care to promote the fic :)


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